


dream a little dream of me

by anna_kat



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Amelia Ward, Elliot Ward, F/M, Henry Lewis, Olive Lewis, Original Character(s), Sophie Morris-Ward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_kat/pseuds/anna_kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompts from an AU meme on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pet rescue/shelter volunteer au

**Author's Note:**

> burningletter- requested #23: pet rescue/shelter volunteer au

The guy at the front desk (he introduced himself as Trip, with a big giant smile) has her sign in and then leads her toward the back of the building. There’s a wide door with an equally wide window, and he hauls it open and gestures her ahead of him.

"Hey, puppy whisperer, we got a new volunteer!" Trip says, though Jemma barely hears it through the excitement clouding her thoughts immediately at the sight of so many puppies.

She drops down to the floor and is nearly tackled by a horde of four or five of them all at once. She giggles and pets the nearest one while two of them begin to swipe their paws at her hair. It’s only when the little chocolate lab bounds away does she realize there’s another person in the room.

"Oh, I’m sorry!" She feels her cheeks get pink. "Um, I’m Jemma. I’m just volunteering for a few days. Thought it’d be fun. A good stress-reliever. I’m sure you know that already."

The man smiles, a gentle, secret sort of smile. “Grant.”

There’s at least another six puppies climbing all over his long legs. She smiles at the lab pup that climbs into his lap and curls up beneath Grant’s hand. “He likes you.”

Grant shrugs and pets along the puppy’s back. “I’m here a lot.”

Jemma thinks she might start being here a lot too.


	2. vampire au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sapphireglyphs requested #16: vampire au

Jemma stands at the mouth of the alley, back to the corner of the building. There’s a quiet little squeak from behind her, and she shivers a little, trying to focus on anything else.

After a few moments, Fitz and Skye are bumping against Jemma like wayward kittens. “You know you don’t have to hang around, Jem.” Fitz says quietly, scratching his fingers through his messy curls.

"You also don’t have to drink the fake crap." Skye insists. Jemma looks over at her, notices a stray drop of blood on her chin. "That lovely girl was fully consenting. We checked. A lot." Skye grins when Jemma wipes the drop from her chin and then pops her thumb into her mouth. "And that was kinda hot."

Jemma rolls her eyes. “Quit. I’m going home. Don’t get into trouble.”

"Can’t promise anything!" Skye calls at the same time Fitz says, "Text one of us when you get home."

Jemma turns and walks away before they start making out. Halfway down the street, she can tell someone’s walking behind her. Waiting a couple more steps, she sighs and turns on her heel to face the other person.

He’s tall, dark hair, dark eyes, wearing low-slung jeans and an absolutely gorgeous leather jacket. He has an apologetic smile on his face, hands up and palms out. “Sorry. Not trying to scare you.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Need something?”

He shakes his head. “No.” He shrugs again. He’s entirely inoffensive and entirely  _delectable,_  and that sudden thought frightens her a little. “My name’s Grant. Just wondering if you wanted some company while you’re walking around on your own. There’s some shady stuff in this area.”

Jemma could laugh, because, really, she doesn’t need any kind of protection from anyone at this point in her life. Not anymore. But he’s just being kind, which she can appreciate, and she really wants to see what those jeans do for his backside, so she can appreciate that too. “Sure. I live this way.”

He smiles a little wider and falls in step beside her. She whips her phone out to shoot a quick text to Fitz and Skye.

_**Picked up some company. Don’t rush home. ;)** _


	3. all night diner at two in the morning au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lindewen requested #1: all night diner at two in the morning au

Grant Ward cannot sleep. He’s tried. A lot. And failed every time, which is why he’s walking down the street in sweatpants and a Yale hoodie. In the rain. At two a.m.

The next window he passes has lights on inside, and the words ‘food’ and ‘open’ blink back on forth in neon colors. Good enough.

When he walks into the little diner, there’s only one other occupant aside from himself and the man wiping down the counter top. He musses a hand through his hair to try and fling some of the rain water out of it. Taking a seat at one of the stools along the counter, he offers a tired smile to the guy on the other side.

"Can’t get to sleep?" The man asks, a genuine smile on his face. At Grant’s expression, he chuckles. "Not very many people in here this time of night. Seemed like a safe guess. You look like a chocolate pie kind of guy."

"Sounds good." Grant agrees, eyes lighting up when the plate of pie is set in front of him. Before he dives face-first into it, he holds a hand out to the other man. "Thanks…"

"Phil. And you are?" 

"Grant." They shake hands and then Phil turns around and comes back with a mug and a pot of coffee. He pours, adds just a bit of sugar, then looks over Grant’s shoulder. "Over in the booth? That’s Jemma. She’s working on her dissertation, and she’s been in here about this time every night for the past week and a half. Take this over to her, you’ll be her hero."

"Can I take the pie with me?" Phil just laughs, so Grant picks up his plate and the mug and makes his way over to the young woman in the booth. Doing his best not to startle, he takes the seat opposite her and pushes the mug toward her. "Uh, Phil sent this over. Said you might need it. I’m Grant. Just the messenger."

Jemma gives him an enormous smile before putting the mug to her lips and sipping. She’s lovely, even in her state of exhaustion, all bright eyes and pale skin. “Oh, thank you. You’re my hero.”

And she’s  _British_. He could curl up in her voice and probably finally fall asleep.

When Grant looks over to Phil, the older man rolls his eyes a little and makes a rolling gesture with his hand like,  _okay, keep going_.

"Um. You want some pie?" He asks slowly, grinning despite himself when she smiles warmly. 

She shuffles some papers out of the way and then taps at her laptop for a moment before shutting it and putting it beside her on the seat. “I’d love some. You don’t have anywhere to be in the middle of the night?”

He watches her scoop up some of the whipped cream with her index finger and tries not to make an appreciative sound. “Nope. Nowhere to be.”


	4. nanny, babysitter, childcare, etc. au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested #19: nanny, babysitter, childcare, etc. au

"Stay where I can see you, Olive!" Jemma calls to the four-year old as she takes off toward the playground. Henry giggles from where she’s holding him to her hip, and she tickles under his chin.

"Look, Jemma!" Olive calls from the top of the slide. "Look how fast I can go!"

Jemma watches like she’s supposed to, clapping when Olive makes it to the bottom. Making sure the older of her charges stays close-by, she carefully settles Henry into the swing made especially for babies. Once he’s in motion with a few gentle pushes, she looks for Olive again.

And can’t see her.

Anywhere.

"Olive?" She turns in a full circle, tries not to panic. "Olive!" Tugging Henry out of the swing, she moves closer to the playground, searching desperately. "OLIVE!"

She whips around the second she hears Olive crying, horrified to see her being picked up by a stranger. 

"Hey!" Clutching Henry close, she runs toward them. "Hey, leave her be! She doesn’t belong to you!"

"Hey, it’s okay." The guy says softly, and when he tries to put Olive down on her feet, Jemma’s surprised to note that the little girl clings to him stubbornly. "She, uh, she fell down and skinned her knee a little. I was just trying to help."

"Oh." Jemma exhales, hand against her forehead. "Oh, that’s sweet of you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled that way."

He smiles, letting Olive cling to him like some kind of tiny octopus. “I shouldn’t have just gone and picked her up. That was my bad. Don’t worry about the yelling, though. I would panic if I saw my kid getting grabbed up.”

Jemma shakes her head a little, rubbing circles against Henry’s back. “Oh, she’s not mine.” At his slightly concerned expression, she stutters an explanation. “No, I mean… uh, sorry… I’m not her mother. I’m the nanny. Oh, nevermind. Thank you.”

"Grant." He supplies with a smile.

"Right. Thank you, Grant, for helping her."

Olive pats her hand against his chest. “Thank you.”

"Come on, Olive. Let’s go play on the swings." Jemma tries, cheeks still flushed. 

The four-year old pouts. “Can Grant play on the swings too?”

"I’m sure he’s got other things to do, darling."

"Uh, actually, my brother just picked up my nieces, so I’m… free." He seems equally embarrassed over the situation, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, I’m a good swing-pusher."

"Yay!" Olive cheers, scrambling to the ground and running for the swings. "Come on!"

Grant and Jemma follow along, slowly, side-eyeing each other with pink cheeks and little grins.

Henry watches them suspiciously.


	5. car breaks down in the middle of nowhere au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested #5: car breaks down in the middle of nowhere au

It’s a long stretch of road, winding between cornfields and patches of wildflowers. He likes it, the lack of other cars, the pretty views on either side. He rolls down the windows and plays music and it’s the most relaxing drive ever.

And then one day, there’s another car on the road, a pale purple vintage VW beetle that just so happens to be pulled onto the shoulder with it’s hazards flashing. And has a woman sitting on the hood.

Grant’s pulling over before he even realizes what’s he doing. He’s turning off the engine and unbuckling and getting out of his truck and he’s sort of confused at himself. He even speaks up first. Like he’s some kind of normal person that knows how to actually function socially. 

"Uh, need a hand?"

She’d looked up when he first pulled over, but she’s still reclined against the hood of the car, feet on the bumper. She looks almost relaxed, even if there’s a slightly unsure edge to her expression. “Do you know how to fix engines that make really strange sounds and then quit altogether?”

"I can take a look. If you’d like." She nods, smiles, sits up and lets him help her hop to the ground. "I’m Grant. In case you wanted to know. Before I go poking around the engine of your car on a deserted road."

Her grin widens as she leans her hip against the passenger’s side door, the skirt of her dress fluttering in the breeze. “I’m Jemma. I left my phone on my dresser and probably would’ve frozen to death out here tonight if you hadn’t stopped to help.”

Grant chuckles as he opens the hood. “I’m pretty sure it won’t drop below sixty tonight.”

"It’d be pretty scary, though."

This time it’s a full laugh that bubbles up from his chest, and he doesn’t try to stop it. After a few quiet moments while he pokes around beneath the hood, he leans back out and smiles at her. “Well, we’re gonna need a few parts to fix this up. It’s about fifteen minutes into the nearest town. Or you can just call someone to come get you, if you’d rather. I have my phone. If you want.”

_Pull up, Grant, you’re crashing._

But she stands up straighter, still smiling. “I’d like a trip into town. If you promise not to kill me, that is.”

She’s an enigma, and he really likes it.

So they drive into town in his truck, and they stop at Carter’s diner and get chocolate milkshakes and watch the sunset and play hangman on the paper place mat. On the way back to her car, she falls asleep against the window.

Once he gets her engine repaired, she pulls the folded place mat from the pocket of her dress, and a pen from her glove box. She scribbles something across the top, folds it back up and hands it to him.

Grant doesn’t open it until he’s watching the tail lights of her little purple beetle disappear around the bend in the road.

_**Grant -** _

_**813-9002.** _

_**Jemma :)** _


	6. wedding planner au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athenakyle and anonymous requested #35: wedding planner au

She’s got at least half of her preparation for Elliot Ward’s wedding completely done. Jemma’s pretty proud of that. 

But when she meets the groom’s older brother, a quiet, sort of brooding man who cares for his siblings more than anything else, her progress falters a little bit. Just a little. Enough for Elliot to notice.

"I can give him your number."

Jemma elbows him in the side and hands him a tuxedo jacket. “Shut up and go try that on.”

For all his determination to stay out of the way unless directly asked for his opinion, Grant Ward is a big help over the next few months. He manages to reign in their sister somewhat, and he wants all the best things for Elliot and Sophie. She likes that about him. Among many other things.

They end up alone together way more often than is really necessary, which she knows is all because of Elliot and Amelia. She finds herself irritated and thankful and very, very confused about that. 

He’s not her typical type, and yet it doesn’t seem to matter. They get to a point where if they don’t see each other, they’re at least exchanging text messages. (When they get down to the wire, just weeks before the wedding, and she feels like she might be losing her mind with all that’s going on, he keeps her grounded.)

On the big day, she catches him swiping at his eyes during the vows, and she’s pretty sure her heart bursts in the absolute best way possible. 

Elliot watches his brother dance with Jemma at the reception, exchanging a fond roll of the eyes with his sister at the other end of the table. After they spend two more slow songs wound around each other, he’s not surprised to see Grant making his way through the guests until he’s sitting down beside him. Elliot raises an eyebrow with a little bit of a smirk. “Yes?”

Grant scrubs a hand down his face. “I think I’m in love with your wedding planner.”


	7. upstairs apartment over the used record store au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drjemmanugent requested #33: upstairs apartment over the used record store au

"You’re going to hate this." Trip says factually. When he sees Jemma opening her mouth to disagree, he just shakes his head. "Uh-uh, girl. You’re going to hate this."

Frowning, Jemma turns to Skye for some assistance. “If you think you’re going to love living up here, Jem, then you go for it. We’re all behind you.”

Fitz appears from the down the hall. “We’ll also be behind you in a few weeks when you’re entirely sick of this place and want to move again.”

Jemma shoos them all out and starts to unpack her boxes. It is a little loud in the record store one floor below, but she knows they close at nine. She decided she could live with that since she’d be at work most of the day and wouldn’t go to sleep until late in the evening anyway.

It takes a couple of days to get into the swing of things, and it’s not like the store blasts their music all that loudly in the first place. Sometimes when the weather is nice, she’ll open her windows and let it filter in. (She always ends up dancing around her kitchen with various utensils as she cooks dinner.)

Two months after she’s moved in, her friends are rather surprised that she’s not sick of it. (Also, they keep showing up and hanging around and starting impromptu dance parties.)

On a Wednesday night, she dances through her living room to the Beatles song coming in the window while rubbing a towel against her dripping wet hair. At 8:50, the music stops. At 8:54, she hears the record store’s door open and shut, voices drifting away down the sidewalk.

At 9:02, the music starts up again, quieter but still noticeable. She should be annoyed. She’s not. 

She keeps dancing, humming along to songs she doesn’t really know. She makes herself a drink and gets her laptop out and does some paperwork, all the while tapping her toes and bobbing her head around.

The music shuts off around 10, the door opens and shuts again, and it’s quiet for the rest of the night.

This happens every night for the next week.

On the following Tuesday evening, at 9:45, she makes her way down the stairs and out onto the street, taking a breath before knocking gently on the door. A man comes to the front of the store, peering at her through the glass for a moment before turning the lock and cracking the door open. “Sorry, we’re closed. We open tomorrow at 10, if you want to come back then.”

He’s young, though probably older than she is. He’s also rather tall, she realizes as her head tips back a bit to actually look up at his (handsome, chiseled, slightly scruffy) face. “Oh, no, I know.” Jemma rubs her fingers across her forehead for a second. “I mean, I live upstairs.”

"Oh." He looks startled, then apologetic. "I’m sorry, I forgot there’s a few apartments up there. Was the music too loud?"

Jemma shakes her head immediately, smiles up at him. “No, not at all. There’s only four apartments up there, and the other three are vacant for now. It’s just me. And I don’t mind the music. It’s nice to hear. I keep my windows open for it.”  _Okay, Jemma, that was too much information. Reel it in._ "I was just, um, wondering if you could give me some titles. Of the things you’ve been listening to the last couple days. I’ve been enjoying your choices."

He stares at her for a solid fifteen seconds, and she starts to feel anxious about saying anything to him at all. But then he steps back, holds the door open and gestures her inside. “You can come in. I can show you a few things I’ve been playing. I’m Grant.”

"Jemma." She ducks under his arm and steps into the store. It smells like vinyl, old books and the best kind of cologne. She’s in love. With the store.

When she gets back upstairs to her apartment, it’s almost midnight. She’s brought home three records and a list of some other albums and artists in her pocket. She left her phone number and a promise to return to the store the next day.

That night, she has dreams of Grant standing outside her apartment like John Cusack.


	8. library au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested #15: library au

She should be working on her mountains of homework with Fitz at the table in the corner, not tiptoeing through the stacks like a teenager. (Though, at eighteen, she is in fact still a teenager.)

Stopping at the end of one of the aisles of shelves, Jemma closes her eyes, lets out a breath, then peeks around the corner. No one there.

She refrains from giggling and scurries between the shelves, trying to peer between the books into the next aisle as she moves. And look ahead of herself. And behind her. And not trip over her feet while she does all of this.

Her phone buzzes in her back pocket.

**_It’s rather hard to do this PARTNER project without my PARTNER._ **

It’s Fitz. Not happy-Fitz. She sends him back a message about finding the right book for their project. Before she can return the phone to her pocket, it buzzes again.

**_You’re not a very good finder, J._ **

Not from Fitz.

She can’t stop the little shiver from zipping down her spine, nor the grin that she tries to bite down on. She taps at the screen.

**_I thought you were the one finding me._ **

**_Sure, but I’ve already done that._ **

The second she reads the words, she turns on her heel and right into Grant Ward’s arms. She puts her hands against his chest to brace herself, and she feels him lace his fingers together behind her back.

And he grins down at her, and her cheeks heat up, and she just grins back.

"Well, hi." He whispers in the quiet of the library.

She taps her fingers along his collarbone. “Hello.”

He squeezes his arms around her for a moment until she looks up at him. “I won.”

Jemma’s nose wrinkles. “You always win. You’re sneakier than I am, it’s not fair.” She’s not as sore a loser as he is, though as Trip always points out, she’s not far behind. “What do you want this time?”

Grant sighs heavily, eyes looking toward the ceiling like he’s thinking very seriously about his options. His fingers drum against her spine in the same rhythm she tapped out moments ago. “Hm. What  _do_  I want?”

"Oh, quit that." She drops her forehead to his chest with a dull thud. "What, then? My turn to cook? Back massage? You pick the movie?"

He hums again. “I think… I would really like…”

"If you say ‘No-Clothes Day’, I will stomp on your foot."

"No-Clothes Day is on the 19th, check your email-"

"Grant!"

"I would really like it if you would sleep at my place tonight. You can pick another one of my t-shirts to steal, and I’ll pick up dinner from Carter’s, and we can, you know… snuggle."

Jemma lifts her forehead, looking up at him with soft eyes. His cheeks are a little pink, his smile a little crooked. She just adores him. “That’s what you want?”

He nods slowly, like he’s waiting for her to reject the idea.

She moves her hands to cup his face, pulling him down into a slow, gentle kiss. When she pulls away, she presses another quick peck to his lips. “Okay.”

"Yeah?" His whole face brightens, and  _she just adores him_. _  
_

Jemma rubs the pad of her thumb along his cheek. “Absolutely. Let me get some homework done for an hour or so, and then I’ll let you know when I’m on my way, okay?”

He leans down to kiss her again.

"Oh god, I should’ve known you were doing this and not looking for a book."

Jemma puts her heels back on the floor and lets go of Grant, turning around. “Oh, Fitz.” He doesn’t look the least bit apologetic.

Grant kisses her forehead twice, gives Fitz a sheepish smile, and squeezes her hand. “Call me when you’re done, okay?”

"I will." He kisses her quickly one more time, then turns and disappears. Jemma raises her eyebrows at Fitz. "I’m sorry."

He rolls his eyes and loops his arm through hers. “Let’s go get this project finished so you can get to Ward’s.”

Jemma beams and kisses his cheek. “You’re the best friend a girl could have, Leo Fitz.”

He can’t pretend to be annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, your boyfriend’s waiting to cuddle with you.”


	9. indie bookstore, record store, comic shop, etc. au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b0r3d-bl0gg3r requested #12: indie bookstore, record store, comic shop, etc. au

He comes in once a week, usually on Saturday or Sunday afternoons, his hand curled around his sister’s as she tugs him through the doors.

The sister, Amelia, is younger than he is, younger than Jemma too, and she always heads straight for the nearest shelf of books (or pile/stack/pyramid of books, as it were) to immediately begin selecting titles. He wanders through the aisles, runs his fingers along the spines of the books. He keeps an ear on his sister, and his eyes on Jemma.

She doesn’t mind.

This afternoon, Amelia comes skipping in on her own with a little blue notebook and a cup of coffee from the stand across the street. Jemma tries not to look disappointed, because she adores Amelia immensely. 

So she smiles, leans across the desk so the other young woman has an easier time kissing her cheek. “I’ve started a pile for you in the back corner. Some new mysteries that came in a couple days ago.”

Amelia beams widely and starts to make her way through the shop.

Jemma calls her back and holds her hand out for the notebook, flipping it open to the most recent page to look over the new titles Amelia has collected. ”I’ll see if I can find any of these while you look over the new stuff.”

"Thank you!" Amelia grins, tying the wild curls of her hair back in a ponytail. She starts toward the back corner again. "Can I just live here for the rest of my life?"

"Only if we can be roommates." Jemma calls, and she hears Amelia laugh loudly from the other side of the shop. The little bell over the door jingles while she starts making a second stack of books. "I’ll be with you in a moment!"

"It’s uh, it’s just me."

Jemma barely refrains from dropping five books to the floor. “I’m over here! Or Amelia’s in the corner.”

"He doesn’t want to see me." Amelia’s voice adds.

"Well, then, I’m over here. On the left." She tries to pretend like she’s scanning the shelves again and not waiting for him to find her.

He does, poking his head around the corner of the shelf and gracing her with a rarely-used smile. Her stomach may or may not do a little somersault. “Hey.”

She smiles back. “Hello, Grant.”

He’s got two cups, and he holds one out toward her, waiting until she sets the books in her arms aside. “I brought this for you.”

Jemma takes it, sips, and finds herself pleasantly surprised by the taste of tea. She hums appreciatively. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

"I wanted to."

Then he sits down on the floor and pats the space beside him. Tea in hand, she reaches to the top of the shelf for the well-worn copy of Huckleberry Finn.

She sits down next to him, nudges off her sandals and tucks her legs beneath her. She turns to the page with the folded corner while he leans back against the shelf, head tipped back and eyes shut.

Jemma starts to read aloud, softly, until Amelia calls from the far side of the shop to speak a little louder. Grant doesn’t say anything, just drinks his coffee and eventually leans his head against her shoulder.

She’s stopped asking them if she should stop, just lets them stay and reads until they’ve had enough and go home.

She doesn’t mind.


	10. kissing booth au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested #14: kissing booth au

"This is the worst thing you have ever made me do."

"I know. Look how much you love me."

"I hate this."

"It’s not that bad. It’s not like I’m asking you to bang anyone."

"Amelia! We’re in public!"

"You don’t even have to use tongue. Just a peck. We’re raising money, don’t be grumpy."

Grant sighs and waves forward the next person in line. He gawks when a little girl no older than five skips up to the booth. He turns enormous eyes to his sister, who just grins and taps her cheek.

The little girl drops two dollars into the tub and sways in place, just smiling up at Grant. “My name’s Olive.” She points behind her at a strikingly pretty young woman. “That’s my Jemma. She gave me two whole dollars so I can get a kiss.”

He grins a little, scoots his chair back and stands to make his way around the booth. Kneeling down beside her, he taps her on the nose and then presses a gentle kiss to her rosy little cheek.

She giggles. “Thank you!” She skips back to the front of the line, slipping her hand into the woman’s. “I got a kiss, Jemmy!”

Jemma smiles down at the little girl, then over at Grant. “Thank you for doing that for her.” She starts to turn away with Olive, chattering about elephant ears and ferris wheels.

"We’re raising money!" Grant blurts out suddenly, his cheeks flushing aggressively fast.  _What the hell was that?_  He kicks his shoe against the grass. “Uh. For the… the library… the money.”

She turns back, an eyebrow crooked toward her hairline. “I assumed you weren’t keeping it for yourself.”

Grant thinks his face might be aflame. “Right. Yeah, no, it’s for the library. For some new books. And the like.”

"I see. I suppose the library’s a good cause to donate to." She lets go of Olive’s hand, digs in her pocket and comes up with a five dollar bill. Dropping it in the bin, she steps up close to him, a gentle grin on her face.

Amelia had said just a peck, which Grant supposes this kiss is, except that it lasts just a touch too long. (And not nearly long enough.)

Jemma pulls away from him, presses the tips of her fingers to her lips. “Wow.” She breathes quietly.

Grant’s about to agree or propose to her or something when, from behind him, Amelia suddenly laughs. “Well, damn.”


	11. speed dating after being single for awhile au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested #28: speed dating after being single for awhile au

Jemma tries to escape three different times, but each time Skye catches her elbow and keeps her in place. “Couldn’t we just go to a bar like normal people?”

"That’s Plan B." Skye says, running a hand through her tousled-yet-unfairly-perfect hair.

Jemma scrunches her nose up. “Can’t it be Plan A?”

Skye just smiles, taking her thumb to the corner of Jemma’s mouth. “You smudged your lipstick.”

"We should probably go back to my place and fix it." Jemma tries, turning on her heel.

"Nice try." 

"Ladies!" Someone calls from the front of the room. "Please take your seats. We’ll get started shortly."

"Can I sit with you?" Jemma asks as she follows behind Skye like a dutiful (or clingy) puppy.

Skye laughs. “Jem, there’s only one chair per table.”

Jemma keeps up. “The request still stands.”

Skye rolls her eyes and pulls a chair out for herself and then the one at the next table. “Here. Sit next to me. But I’m not holding your hand.”

Jemma scoffs. She wasn’t going to ask that. (It hadn’t crossed her mind.) “If I die of embarrassment, you get to stand up at my funeral and tell everyone this was your idea.”

"Wow. That’s dramatic." Skye musses her hair one more time and then the guy at the front instructs the men to take a seat as well.

Jemma makes it through six men. One who doesn’t let her get a word in, another who doesn’t actually say a word, one who touches her knee under the table, two who get snippy when she mentions her PhDs, and one who wouldn’t stop looking at her breasts. 

The seventh one sits down across from her and she sort of loses her breath for a moment.

He’s  _beautiful_ , and part of brain wonders if that’s the word she really means to use for a man she hasn’t even spoken a word to yet, a man sitting across from her at speed-dating, but then the majority of her brain insists that  _yes,_  that’s the exactly right word.

He’s beautiful.

He looks a little tired, a little nervous, maybe shy. But he gives her a smile and he reaches for where her hand is resting on the table. His fingers brush over her knuckles, gently, giving her a chance to move away. She doesn’t.

"Hi. I’m Grant."

"Jemma. It’s nice to meet you."

When they’re four minutes into their time with four minutes left, he reaches for her hand again. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but since neither of us really wanted to be here in the first place, and since this is the best four minutes I’ve had all night, what do you say we get out of here?”

Jemma thinks this might have been the best four minutes she’s had all week, let alone tonight, so she turns her hand over and lets his fingertips dance along her palm. “What did you have in mind?”

He smiles. “There’s a great little Italian place two blocks from here. My treat.”

Skye whistles after Grant and Jemma when they make a dash for the exit hand in hand.


	12. camp counselors au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lindewen requested: camp counselors au

Grant’s doing his best to clean up the mess left behind in the grass from the water balloon war when the counselor from cabin 6 comes running down the hill toward him. Her name is Jemma, she’s from England, she does science projects with the campers, he stutters when he talks to her, and if he looks at her long enough, it’s like looking into the sun. He’s sort of in love with her.

She doesn’t know that. He hopes.

"Hey." He says as she nears, giving himself a little mental pat on the back for not starting the conversation with ‘will you marry me?’ or anything equally absurd and inappropriate. And fantastic. "You okay?"

Her eyebrows are drawn together, her forehead wrinkled. Her normally tidy hair has come loose from it’s ponytail and flutters around her shoulders as she jolts to a stop. “Olive’s missing. She was supposed to come back with the rest of my girls, but she didn’t check in. Have you seen her?”

Grant can’t help the flash of cold panic that settles in his chest for a moment, before he takes a deep breath and looks around. “Let me check over here. Sometimes the littler kids like to hide in the-“

Before he can finish his sentence, the fabric of the multi-colored parachute rustles about until a wide-eyed nine-year old pokes her head out. “I’m in here.”

"Olive!" Jemma sighs, and in two syllables, manages to sound relieved, angry and amused. It’s pretty impressive. (He thinks everything she does is impressive. He’s like a schoolboy with his first crush.)

"I’m sorry!" Olive replies quickly, extracting herself from the confines of the parachute. "I’m sorry, I just wasn’t ready to be done yet. I wanted to play a little longer."

"You’ll be back tomorrow to do games with Grant. You’re supposed to stick with your group, and you’re definitely supposed to make sure your counselor knows where you are. I was worried." Jemma’s smoothing Olive’s static-y hair down as she talks, a stern look on her face, but her eyes and hands gentle.

"I’m sorry." Olive says again, wringing her hands together.

Jemma squeezes her shoulder. “Go on back to the cabin, let the other girls know you’re alright. I’ll be there in a minute, then we’ll head down to dinner.”

Olive waves one hand at Grant as she starts to walk away, head still down.

When he looks back to Jemma, she’s got her head tilted to the side, looking back at him. The back of his neck heats up. She grins. His face goes red.  _What is happening right now?_

"Um…" He’s not sure what comes after that. He stops.

Jemma crooks an eyebrow, head tilting just a bit more. Can she tell that she makes him all nervous and… fluttery?  _Fluttery. You’re so ridiculous._

"Thank you." She says when he doesn’t say another word. "For finding her. And not freaking out like I was."

He shrugs and rubs at one of his eyes to avoid looking directly at her.  _This is not you._  The little voice in his head pokes.  _You’ve got women falling at your feet back home, during the year. You know how to talk to women._

The difference with this woman, he knows, is that he would gladly fall to her feet. Instantly.

She’s still grinning at him. “No problem. Uh. I’ll see you at dinner?”

Jemma nods, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Of course. I’ll save you a seat.”

Grant watches her walk away, nodding dumbly.

It hasn’t even been two weeks yet (though they’ve both been back here for the past three summers) and he’s entirely sure she could bring him to his knees. 

He just hopes he doesn’t accidentally propose to her.


	13. meeting at a masquerade ball au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> burningletter- requested: meeting at a masquerade ball au

There are plenty of women in attendance at this insanity of a charity ball - he lost track of his sister and Skye almost immediately - but his eye catches on one in particular and doesn’t really leave her for the rest of the night. (He’s trying his best to not be creepy about it.)

All the women appear put-together and elegant, but something about this one seems more so. Out of the lot of them, she seems the most comfortable in the heavy fabric, large skirt and laced-up bodice of her gown. 

She’s mesmerizing, her smile wide and honest and her laugh gentle and melodic even over the noise of the party. The light from the chandeliers glints against her golden mask and glows against her pale skin.

And when he makes his way across the room to stand in front of her (he totally bows and everything) before holding his hand out in invitation, she smiles, curtsies, and lets him lead her into the middle of the dance floor.

"I’m Grant."

"And I’m Jemma. Simmons."

"You look lovely tonight, Miss Simmons."

She smiles up at him, and her eyes dance behind her mask. “Oh, you should call me Jemma, I think.” She tilts her head a bit, examines him. Her smile grows just a touch. “Definitely. You should definitely call me Jemma.”


	14. teacher/single parent au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sapphireglyphs requested: teacher/single parent au

Jemma is entirely done with conferences. She loves her job and she loves her students, but _god_ , it’s been a long day. 

She’s packing up her things when Skye pokes her head into Jemma’s classroom. “Looks like you’ve got one more on the way in, Jem.” 

Jemma’s in the middle of a frustrated groan when she notices the look on her friend’s face. “What’s that look for?”

Skye just shrugs and practically skips back toward her own classroom. 

Before Jemma can be properly concerned, the sound of running feet echoes from the hallway (along with Principal Coulson calling a gentle, “Walk, please!”) and then Ellie Ward is tumbling into the room. “Miss Simmons! I did it, I solved it!”

A thick notebook is plopped down on Jemma’s desk, the open pages covered in numbers. Without bothering to contain her grin, Jemma examines all the work Ellie’s done to solve the physics equation. Her smile grows as she looks up at the fourteen-year old. “You most certainly did.”

Ellie dances in a circle. “Yes! I thought I was going to have to give up on it!”

Jemma shakes her head. “But you didn’t, and you figured it out, just like I knew you would.”

"You’re the greatest, Miss Simmons, seriously." Ellie grins, bouncing on her heels. "Will you say that to my dad? Will you tell him you knew I could do it?"

"Your dad knew you could do it too, darling, he’s the one that asked if I had any other advanced things you could work on. He knows you’re brilliant just as well as I do." Jemma promises.

"Don’t give me too much credit, Miss Simmons." Grant Ward says from the doorway. "Couldn’t have done this without you."

Jemma flushes.  _Damn him and his jeans and his leather jacket and his being so young with a teenage daughter. And his stupid cheekbones. Damn him._ "Oh, she’s brilliant all on her own. I just give her homework. And please, I’ve asked you to call me Jemma."

Ellie rolls her eyes and scoops up her notebook from the desk. “I’m going to go see if Mr. Fitz is still here. While you two… converse. And such.”

Jemma nods to the girl, but her eyes stay on Grant. “Would you like to sit?”

He smiles. “Anything for you, Jemma.”


End file.
